


A tasteless sense of humour, since times immaterial

by LittleLinor



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor
Genre: Consensual Kink, M/M, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 09:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Nobody should be allowed to be this playful while biting off someone's shoulder, in Naoya's opinion (as if he didn't enjoy it).(Consensual vore ft. chaos protag and Healing Spell Canon (TM))





	A tasteless sense of humour, since times immaterial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tomurai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomurai/gifts).



Kazuya bites through your shoulder and you have to bite down on _his_ , keep the thick cloth of his cape tight between your teeth to stop yourself from screaming; you've been hurt in worse ways before (retribution only hits _later_ , after all, or they never would have managed to burn you on the stake) but staying there, _letting_ him tear you apart, is a whole different thing. It makes you almost wish you were gagged, had something to bite on to and muffle your screams, but a gag would make it impossible to reply when Kazuya straightens and bends closer to your head again, like he's doing _right now_ , playful and leisurely.  
“I'm so glad Diarahan exists,” he breathes into your ear, amusement clear in his voice. “It'd be such a pain having to wait another decade for you to come back and develop the motor skills to talk. Not to mention the hassle of finding you.”  
You burst out laughing—you'd have more control, normally, but the pain and lightheadedness are making your control fray.  
It's fine. For him (only for him), you can allow this.  
“You have… a strange sense… of priorities...”  
He grins.  
“But you love me~”  
You smile, strained but honest, cold sweat weighting down your eyelashes and forcing you to blink.  
“I do.” And to demonstrate, you lean into his hold again, baring your torn shoulder: an invitation. “In fact, I think that may be the very reason I do.”  
He chuckles.  
“The only reason?” he asks, bending down to close his teeth on a stray shred of skin and flesh.  
He pulls, casually, and you can't hold back your yell this time as it tears off.  
“I— _aaah_ ” you pant as he straightens to chew on his prize, “—of course not.” You swallow your own saliva, try to get your broken voice under control. “Don't act like you don't know that.”  
“I like hearing it though,” he murmurs, his hand brushing up your other arm, soft and gentle as your other shoulder bleeds.  
“Such a glutton for attention,” you say, pressing your face into his shoulder. You would have sighed for effect, but it really is beyond you right now. “You've always been like this. Infuriating.”  
He chuckles, and this time it's against your neck that his teeth tease, before going down to your shoulder and biting off another piece again.  
“Would you really have it any other way?”  
And you've lost again, because you don't. It's _him_ you love, with all the quirks that made you so jealous and insecure back then.  
He has always been a shepherd. Those he kills have always come up to him willingly.  
He has no need to hunt, to force, when his gentleness will call you to his side without fail.  
You don't answer, but you tilt your head a little more.


End file.
